Shades of Earl Grey Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  RECIPES FROM THE INDIGO TEA SHOP

  Teatime Entertaining Ideas

  DON’T MISS THE OTHER TEA SHOP MYSTERIES

  Praise

  COMING IN MAY 2003 FROM LAURA CHILDS AND BERKLEY PRIME CRIME

  PRAISE FOR THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE TEA SHOP MYSTERY SERIES BY LAURA CHILDS

  Gunpowder Green

  “This mystery series could singlehandedly propel the tea-shop business in this country to the status of wine bars and bustling coffee houses.”

  —Buon Gusto (Minneapolis, MN)

  “Engages the audience from the start . . . Laura Childs provides the right combination between tidbits on tea and an amateur sleuth cozy that will send readers seeking a cup of Death by Darjeeling, the series’ previous novel.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Death by Darjeeling

  “Highly recommended” by the Ladies’ Tea Guild

  “Tea lovers, mystery lovers, [this] is for you. Just the right blend of cozy fun and clever plotting.”

  —Susan Wittig Albert, bestselling author of Bloodroot

  “It’s a delightful book!”

  —Tea: A Magazine

  “Murder suits [Laura Childs] to a Tea.”

  —St. Paul Pioneer Press

  “If you devoured Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden, this new series is right up your alley.”

  —The Goose Creek (SC) Gazette

  “Death by Darjeeling is a good beginning to a new culinary series that will quickly become a favorite of readers who favor this genre. The cozy and inviting setting will quickly draw readers in and a likable cast of characters will have them eager to return.”

  —The Mystery Reader

  “Gives the reader a sense of traveling through the streets and environs of the beautiful, historic city of Charleston.”

  —Minnetonka (MN) Lakeshore Weekly News

  Berkley Prime Crime titles by Laura Childs

  Tea Shop Mysteries

  DEATH BY DARJEELING

  GUNPOWDER GREEN

  SHADES OF EARL GREY

  THE ENGLISH BREAKFAST MURDER

  THE JASMINE MOON MURDER

  CHAMOMILE MOURNING

  BLOOD ORANGE BREWING

  DRAGONWELL DEAD

  THE SILVER NEEDLE MURDER

  Scrapbooking Mysteries

  KEEPSAKE CRIMES

  PHOTO FINISHED

  BOUND FOR MURDER

  MOTIF FOR MURDER

  FRILL KILL

  Anthology

  DEATH BY DESIGN

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

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  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

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  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South

  Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  SHADES OF EARL GREY

  A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / January 2003

  Copyright © 2003 by The Berkley Publishing Group.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-09850-9

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME

  Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design are trademarks

  belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Heartfelt thank-you’s to Mary Higgins Clark for her kindness and gentle noodge into mystery writing; my agent, Sam Pinkus; everyone at Berkley Publishing; friends from Malice Domestic, MWA, and Bouchercon; the wonderful tea hostesses (tireless entrepreneurs, all of them!) at countless tea shops around the country who have embraced my series; all the marvelous booksellers who have kindly recommended my books; the writers and reviewers who have generously featured my books in their magazines, newspapers, newsletters, and web sites. Much gratitude to my husband, Dr. Robert Poor, to Jennie, Mom, and Jim Smith, and the many readers who continue to be charmed by Theodosia and the Indigo Tea Shop. Tea and trouble keep brewing in Charleston because of you!

  Find out more about the author,

  her Tea Shop Mysteries,

  and her Scrapbooking Mysteries

  at www.laurachilds.com

  CHAPTER 1

  SCURRYING ACROSS THE Italian marble floor of the Lady Goodwood Inn, Theodosia Browning glanced up at the gleaming painting of the inn’s venerable founder and matriarch. Harriet Beecher Goodwood gazed down at her guests from her lofty perch. With her glowing porcelain skin, heavy necklace of blue topaz, and pale peach organza gown cinched tightly about her waist, she was the very picture of Southern femininity. A woman with a properly demure manner who also conveyed a fine aristocratic bearing. Yet her watchful eyes seemed to betray a certain wistfulness, as though Lady Goodwood would prefer to step out of her formal portrait and mingle with the carefree throng that milled about below.

  In her black satin slacks and figure-skimming smoking jacket, Theodosia breathed a silent prayer of relief that modern-day Charleston women were no longer bound by strict social constraints or uncomfortable, tightly co
rseted gowns. How on earth would she ever be able to fly about the Indigo Tea Shop, greeting guests and brewing tea, if she were costumed in ankle-length skirts, pantalets, high button boots, and a whale bone corset? Better yet, how would she even draw breath in an outfit like that? Especially when summer’s heat and humidity crept in from the low-country and turned the city into a real cooker!

  “Theodosia! Over here!” Drayton Conneley, Theodosia’s dear friend and right-hand man at the Indigo Tea Shop, gave a casual wave to her from the spot he’d staked out near the potted palms. Sixty-two years old, with a head of grizzled gray hair, Drayton was dashingly attired in a cream-colored cashmere jacket, dove gray slacks, and trademark bow tie. Theodosia noted that, for this late autumn party, Drayton had chosen a muted paisley bow tie. Plu-perfect, of course, and the signature touch that always made Drayton the picture of elegance and charm.

  Theodosia grinned at Drayton as she pushed her way through the crowd. What a sport he was to accompany her here tonight in lieu of her usual boyfriend, Jory Davis. Especially when Drayton didn’t even know the bride-to-be! But then, Drayton was always a gentleman and a good sport. Intrigued by her vision of starting Charleston’s first authentic tea shop in the historic district, Drayton hadn’t hesitated to resign his rather lofty position at one of Charleston’s major hotels and leap at the opportunity to become her master tea blender and majordomo.

  Theodosia had a great admiration for risk takers. Of course, she’d been one herself. Just three years ago, she’d bid a hearty arrivederci to job security at one of Charleston’s major advertising agencies when she’d resigned her job as vice president of client services.

  A long-abandoned, dusty little tea shop on Church Street had quietly beckoned. Along with a yearning for a far more independent lifestyle and a desire to chart her own course, make her own business decisions. Theodosia knew she would get out of the tea shop exactly what she put into it, and she was fine with that. More than fine, in fact.

  And Drayton and Haley Parker, dear friends and willing accomplices, had been there with her from the very beginning.

  Drawing upon his years spent in Amsterdam as a master tea blender, Drayton had immediately set about stocking the Indigo Tea Shop with an enviable selection of loose teas. Pungent, orange-red Assams. Smoky, slightly sweet Ceylon teas. Fragrant Darjeelings from the steep slopes of the Himalayas. There were also sparkling emerald green teas from Japan, gyokos and senchas, that were a touch puckery and a bit of an acquired taste. Plus a robust assortment of Indonesian, Malaysian, Turkish, and African teas, as well as the enticing black tea grown at the Charleston Tea Plantation located some twenty-five miles south of Charleston on Wadmalaw Island in the low-country.

  Haley, Theodosia’s young pastry chef, was a sometime student who was still trying to determine her way in the world. How lucky for the Indigo Tea Shop, however, that Haley delighted in baking her infamous blackberry scones, cream muffins, gingerbread cakes, and shortbread in the tiny little aromatic kitchen at the back of the tea shop. Lately, Haley had even come up with her own recipe for marvels, those deep-fried cookies so peculiar to South Carolina.

  And all the elements had come together. Beautifully. The Indigo Tea Shop had fast become a charming little gem of a shop, one stitch in the elegant tapestry of restaurants, shops, museums, and historic homes that made up Charleston’s famed historic district.

  The tea shop’s interior, stripped of its former cork ceiling panels and indoor/outdoor carpet, now gleamed richly with original pegged wooden floors, exposed beams and red brick walls. Antique hickory tables and chairs, some Theodosia had salvaged from the out-buildings of her Aunt Libby’s farm, contributed to an atmosphere that was authentically cozy and inviting. Shelves that weren’t laden with copper canisters and sparkling jars filled with tea, were crowded with Yi-Hsing tea pots, tea presses, jars of DuBose Bees Honey and Devonshire cream, and their own house brands of packaged teas such as Cooper River Cranberry and Britannia Breakfast Blend. The Indigo Tea Shop was a setting filled with authenticity and grace, and it tantalized guests. And luckily for Theodosia, those guests descended upon her tea shop in droves. The shopkeepers from up and down Church Street, residents of the historic district who had been anxious to adopt a charming little tea shop as their own, visitors to Charleston who strolled the nearby walkways and hidden cobblestone paths.

  Theodosia hurried over to Drayton and grabbed his arm. “So good of you to come,” she told him.

  He smiled down at her. “You’re looking lovely,” he told her.

  “To be perfectly honest,” she said, turning her blue eyes upon him and patting her auburn hair self-consciously, “I feel rather tossed together. Delaine called at the last minute to ask if she could borrow my baroque silver card receiver to use as a stand so she could display Camille’s wedding ring. So, of course, I had to scoot over here, where I immediately got roped into helping with a few more last-minute details. Then I had to make a mad dash home, give Earl Grey a quick run around the block, and get myself all fixed up. And then it started to pour buckets,” Theodosia added breathlessly.

  The Delaine that Theodosia was referring to was Delaine Dish, a friend of Theodosia’s and Drayton’s who owned the clothing boutique, Cotton Duck, just a few doors down from the Indigo Tea Shop. Earl Grey was Theodosia’s dog, a mixed breed she’d found cowering in the alley behind the tea shop one rainy night. Theodosia had promptly adopted the bedraggled pup and dubbed him a purebred dalbrador. The very grateful and loving Earl Grey had been Theodosia’s constant companion ever since. He had taken to obedience and agility training like a duck to water and had also earned his Therapy Dog International certificate, which gave both of them the privilege of making regular visits to nursing homes and children’s hospital wards.

  Tonight’s soiree was an engagement party for Delaine’s niece, Camille Cantroux. Camille was engaged to marry a young Marine captain, Corey Buchanan from Savannah, Georgia. In fact, the wedding was just a few weeks away, set to take place the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

  “Here’s Haley,” said Drayton as a young woman in a swirl of black crepe hurried to join them.

  “Hey, you guys,” said Haley in a breathless rush, “tell me if this dress looks okay.” As she executed a self-conscious little twirl, her long straight hair swirled out in a wedge around her. “I borrowed it from my cousin, Rowena.”

  “Terrific,” piped up Drayton immediately, without so much as a look in her direction.

  Haley rolled her eyes.

  Theodosia, however, took Haley very seriously and studied her little black cocktail dress with an appraising eye. In her short, fun dress she looked like an updated Audrey Hepburn. Coltish, very much the gamin. Except, of course, for her long, straight hair and slightly impudent nature. That was pure Haley.

  “You look adorable,” Theodosia reassured her. “Youthful, very fresh. I’m confident every young man here tonight will have his eye on you.”

  “Do you really think so?” asked Haley. She glanced around quickly at the crowd of young people. “There are lots of good-looking guys here, aren’t there? Do you think they’re all Marines?”

  “I’d say there are more than a few good men,” said Drayton, who never failed to delight in teasing Haley.

  Haley, on the other hand, simply ignored his jibes. “How come Delaine is throwing an engagement party here in Charleston when her niece and her fiancé are getting married in Savannah?” she asked.

  “Besides the fact that Delaine lives here, Camille also attended school here at Charleston College,” explained Theodosia. “So Camille has loads of friends in the area. You know, she graduated this past summer with a B.A. in English literature.”

  “Cool,” nodded Haley. “I was an English lit major once.”

  “Haley,” said Drayton, “you were also a studio arts major, women’s studies major, and . . . let’s see . . . what was your most recent foray? Business?”

  “Hey, smarty,” Haley shot back, “I’m still takin
g classes in business administration. This time I will get my degree.”

  “Of course you will,” Theodosia assured her.

  “Thanks, Theo,” said Haley. “Hey, your hair looks great tonight,” she exclaimed as an afterthought.

  “No, not really,” said Theodosia, nervously patting her hair again.

  “Batten down the hatches,” said Drayton under his breath. “Here comes Delaine.”

  Delaine Dish, proud aunt and planner extraordinaire of tonight’s engagement party, came plowing through the throng of guests like an ocean liner entering New York Harbor. Delaine’s long, dark hair was swept into an up-do and she wore a midnight blue chiffon dress with a beaded camisole bodice and frothy skirt. With her slightly upturned eyes, Delaine looked tall, dark, and elegant.

  “Delaine, darling,” said Drayton, greeting her. “You’re looking lovely.”

  Delaine rubbed a bare shoulder against Drayton. “Such a way with women you have, Mr. Conneley.”

  Theodosia sighed. Delaine was a sweet soul. No one could touch her fiery zeal when it came to raising money for the Heritage Society, campaigning for the Charleston Humane Society, or selling tickets for the Lamplighter Tour. But Delaine did have a certain fondness for men.

  Delaine finally turned her gaze toward Theodosia and Haley. “Having a good time, you two?”

  “Everything is lovely,” replied Theodosia. “The Lady Goodwood Inn was a perfect choice.”

  “So was the string quartet,” added Drayton, nodding toward the group of musicians tucked off in the corner.

  Theodosia let her gaze wander, taking in the small, elegant ballroom with its color palette of cream and pale blue, the multitude of vases overflowing with fresh flowers, the tuxedo-clad waiters who bore silver trays with crystal flutes of champagne. “It’s nice to be a guest for once and not the caterer,” she told Delaine.